


Terminus

by jmi



Series: Put Up Again Thy Sword [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:29:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22601743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jmi/pseuds/jmi
Summary: Can events of the past make such an impression on a soul that it follows to the next life, and the next, and the next?  The last man to hold the title Fandaniel would say it is so, if he could see the entire skein of his existence.These short stories will contain spoilers for the FFXIV expansion Shadowbringers and, as that story unfolds, may end up deviating from canon.
Relationships: Fandaniel/Hythlodaeus, Hades/Hythlodaeus (implied)
Series: Put Up Again Thy Sword [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1626280
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Terminus

The words of parting had been simple, expedient.. as the circumstance had demanded, and blatant lies. He had lost his mask somewhere in the fire and debris choked avenues of Amaurot on the path to the Capitol Building. Even so, Hythlodaeus would not have needed to witness the pain in Hector Fandaniel's eyes or the pallor of his already fair skin to know the man was near death. He could see the silvery shot indigo of his aura fading away, bit by bit, battle by battle, lifting towards the convoluted torrents of the Underworld. Hythlodaeus was no healer, and knew little more than the basics of first aid. All he could do was watch as the Marshal pressed on ahead of him, fulfilling his vow to see Hythlodaeus safely to the site where the rest of the Convocation were attempting to imbue their star with a will of its own to survive. Leaning on red stained marble Hector promised to be waiting for Hythlodaeus when he descended from the building, hopefully with some if not all of the Convocation, keeping the path safe for their escape from the burning city. They both knew the words were a lie, perhaps the first he had ever spoken to Hythlodaeus; but neither man wished to call attention to them.

Hector waited until the dark, fluttering robes vanished around an interior corner of the building before he shuffled to the top of the stairs that lead down to the once grand avenue. With the exception of howls of misshapen beasts and the occasional rumble of a collapsing building, the city was growing quiet. The realization chilled Hector's already cooling body. The people were dead or dying. The people he had sworn to defend with his life. Today, however, he had made an oath to a man he respected, and envied, to defend the life of only one other person this night, no matter the cost. At least, he thought as he slumped to the ground, he had saved that one. Hythlodaeus would make it to Hades, and Hector knew beyond any doubt that Hades would keep him safe until the very star crumbled around the two of them.

His gaze moved to the spreading pool of blood that his hand was no longer stemming along his side. Perhaps he should have said more to Hythlodaeus before sending him to Hades. But what more could he have said? That he wished they had met as children? That Hythlodaeus had infected him with his love of knowledge and puzzles; perhaps channeled his over-rambunctious energy to a more scholarly pursuit that could have placed him in the Bureau of the Architect? No. The Marshals were where he was always meant to be; his fate, if one sided with the pre-determinists who debated in the Hall of Rhetoric. Hector knew in his heart, the moment he took up a sword as a youth, fresh to Amaurot, that his end would likely be a violent one; and he had made peace with that long ago. Perhaps a word of love? No. That was something that had never even teased the edges of their conversations in Hythlodaeus' apartment over tea, or a morning coffee at that quiet little cafe near Anyder. Hythlodaeus deserved more than just a hurriedly offered sentiment from someone who could not put them to words until he was broken and dying. Hythlodaeus deserved better. He lifted his gaze to the red and orange tinged sky and wondered if he would die before one of those monstrosities found him? He hoped not. He could drive his sword though its brain when it tried to devour him. One less beast for his Marshals to deal with... if any of the brave, stalwart souls still lived.

It was then a sound drew his notice and made him turn his head. Blood dripped into his eye from the new angle, but did not change the fact that the red glow was disappearing above him. The fires were not out, but the sky was being devoured in darkness. The sound he heard was not the horrible cacophony that had begun this disaster upon them. Was it.. a voice? It was something so expansive, so much larger than himself that Hector marveled he was not deafened by it. The darkness above seemed to be looking back at him. He suddenly felt very small and for the first time since he was a child, very afraid.

**[I WILL LIVE]**

Something moved on the surface of that deep and Hector's heart beat out of rhythm as he realized the darkness truly was looking back. A color he could not describe fell over the ruins of Amaurot. It was not blue, not violet, and not black. It seemed to pour into his body through is eyes, his mouth, though the gaping wounds he had taken, and spread throughout his soul.

**[I LIVE]**

For a moment, Hector felt a joy unlike anything that he had ever experienced. It obliterated everything that had meant something in his life; becoming a Marshal, his pride at succeeding his mentor Priam to the title of Fandaniel, his small circle of friends.... his unspoken love for Hythlodaeus. All was washed away in the sudden euphoria that poured out the last of his life in a few broken words.

“My god.. Zodiark... you live.”


End file.
